Poems

In timeless and undeviating Truth There is no element of age or youth, Only the grace of all-embracing Love Perpetually beneath, around, above, Expressed in infinite variety In him, in her, in flower—in you and me. If, humanly, within the common dream Of animality, there still should seem Antithesis between the old and young, There yet obtains a universal tongue, The tongue of love, which can be understood By youth and age, in tender brotherhood, And deference and kindness, each to each— Not passive but with hearts prepared to reach Out to another in his quandary, Compassionately holding men to be Expressions of Love's beauty, wisdom, might; Of equal value in the Father's sight.

Stand porter! Rise and shut the door. Deny the claims of sense.

The North Star guides the mariner at sea With compass that directs unerringly; The one attraction of God's holy Word Draws men instinctively unto the Lord. In eastern sky, a star's bright diadem Forever crowns the child of Bethlehem.

Suddenly, meal. Emptiness filled.

Fear gripped him, Based on rumor and report of Stephen's death. But he sought his God.

Stand alone with your own being. Look into the mirror of Love, divine Science.

My song once soared in praise to God. (Let me be heard! Let me be heard!) And still it soared with holy Truth.

If they would listen to me, their troubles would flee, but my words are bubbles to my children, who hear only the willful drone of their own voices beating the air to gain the ears of their own deaf children, in vain! Despairing, I turn my head— there stands my father—he has been speaking to me— seeking with eyes that burn parental concern to catch my ear by word! What has he said? ( I have not heard!) Thus clangs the chain of the human will—word-studded— an instrument of hate—linking together the generations, with sound prolongations that make earth shake, but with no communications! Can we not break this chain, for mankind's sake? Let us be humble, O God, Father-Mother! Help us speak less and listen more! Help us break through the earthquake's roar to hear Thy voice—small and still— to do Thy will! In so loving Thee, we shall love one another and rule out this muffling hate— we shall communicate! Althea Brooks Hollenbeck.

Because Mind knows man's every path, his every way, he cannot stray beyond encompassed reach, out of eternal day. No flight to distant star, no probe of depth at sea, but what His love enfolds.

Yielding our lives to God, we find The fruitful blossoming of Mind. Thus, radiating gratitude, We help Him feed the multitude.